Take a Walk
by KurosawaCP
Summary: Luki, A hair stylist who works on the models at the notorious agency called Buttons. Mikuo, A laid-back rookie photographer who is seemingly oblivious to his co-worker's lewd advances. Yuuma makes a bet with Luki, laying the bait that the hair stylist will lose his job before he loses his perpetual virginity to Mikuo. Luki takes him up on it.


**Title: **Take a Walk

**Fandom:** Vocaloid

**Main pairing:** Luki/Mikuo

**BETA:** Kuro

**Notes: **I wanted to expand on the relationship, I think it's cute and eccentric. Oops.

**Warnings: **Pink-haired deviant. Begging. Sex at work. Gambling. AU.

*Full summary*

Luki, A hair stylist who works on the models at the notorious agency called Buttons. Mikuo, A laid-back rookie photographer who is seemingly oblivious to his co-worker's lewd advances. Yuuma makes a bet with Luki, laying the bait that the hair stylist will lose his job before he loses his perpetual virginity to Mikuo. Luki takes him up on it.

* * *

This _wasn't_ a daily occurrence, he'd assure you. Luki Megurine wasn't poking his tongue through his teeth in concentration, his sweaty, fuchsia bangs were _not _sticking to his forehead, and he was _definitely_ not furiously pumping his own upstanding erection while staring at the default picture of his co-worker on said co-worker's own Wikipedia page. Nope.

Bullshit, he was and he did this on his lunch break every single day.

The hair stylist wasn't ashamed to admit it. Albeit, he was abit _appalled _by it, but nevertheless; he was very upfront about his attraction to the photographer of the models he worked on. Luki's fingers deftly tightened around the stiff organ as he pictured the company's only photog bending over to take pictures of a faceless girl. The woman herself was beyond alluringly beautiful, but in his head, he could only picture the perfect, ample swell of Mikuo Hatsune's ass press against his jeans as slender arms raised a heavy camera to take a shot. The pink-haired male stroked himself even faster at the mental image of the younger co-worker's shirt rising slightly as he stood on the tiptoes of his boots to take an aerial picture of a different model.

The thought of Mikuo's flushed face from being overworked at the end of the work day is what tipped him over the edge; the hair stylist stiffed a growl that followed a sensous moan as he came all over his hands. Magenta-lacquered nails shining with a pearl essence thanks to the foreign substance marring them. With a quirked down lip, Luki proceeded to wipe the mess onto a piece of toilet paper on standby to his left.

He slipped gracefully out of the restroom stall, laptop tucked under one hand, Chanel sunglasses hanging helplessly by their arms in the other. Luki perched them onto the bridge of his nose, the dark plastic accenting the ivory of his skin as he stepped into the bright fluorescent light of the studio. First thing he noticed was that today would be _busy_.

Rakish models littered the studio, the strong smell of perfume, sweat, and the same brand of tampon all in the same room. A strong inhale of relatively clean air from the hallway and Luki Megurine was ready to endure it all. He was lucky that he didn't have an allergy to the mystery perfume scents in here like a few of his co-workers did.

But despite how laborious today promised to be, he did his best to sneak glances out of the corner of his eye at the platform across the room towards the person behind the camera lens.

"Hey, asshole!"

Mood dampening, Luki reluctantly gave his attention to his sister in the chair before him, brow raising slightly. "Oops."

"That's the third time that you sprayed me in the face with that damn hairspray!" Her perfectly manicured fingers dug into the arm of the swivel chair, eye twitching inelegantly. Her face was scarlet with frustration. Every artisan in this building knew not to make Megurine Luka angry before she got the chance to model infront of the camera. As her brother, you'd think he'd care about that and possibly enforce it. One unimpressed survey of his sibling had it officially decided, though. I.E: _Nah. _

"All an _accident_." He parried, fingertip lingering on the can's button in a dubious fashion. He repressed a toothy smirk as Luka made a face.

"Bullsh—"

"_Megurine-San_,"

Both sets of azure irides swerved over. Luka's heart skipped a beat, and Luki's cock promptly jumped to attention.

"_Hatsune-Kun_," The hairstylist practically purred out, ignoring the scathing glare that he felt on him by almost every set of ovaries in the room, particularly his sibling's.

"Megurine-San, the backdrop is ready."

"Finally!" And with that, the model flung the cape off of her person and ripped herself from the chair.

Mikuo side-stepped the hot-tempered fuschia-haired woman as she rampaged onto the set. Turqoise irises slid to an amused pair.

"...You're a monster."

"Pity. I wanted to get her in the face atleast a _few _more times, Hatsune-Kun."

"Work isn't the place for such childish pranks." His tone was a sneer that rivaled even Luka's.

Luki's features twisted into a familiar pout as he stared heatedly at the nonchalant photographer. He couldn't help but start to picture him naked. After a few milliseconds of extended eye contact, that seemed to dawn on the younger, teal-haired male.

"..I have to go."

**-v-**

At this point, you could only guess what Mikuo liked to do for fun. He was very private about his life; despite having worked here for quite awhile. Both men were employed at the infamous agency entitled _'Buttons'_. laughable, yeah? Apparently not to the company's top photographer. The agency had many temps for Luki's 'sick' days, but as far as anyone was concerned, Megurine Luki was the_ ace_ hairstylist. Everyone there was very reliable for their jobs. Some more than others. Kagamine Len was considered Mikuo's official errand boy. You couldn't drop in on a conversation between the pair without hearing Mikuo snap at the uncouth assistant about fetching 'the wrong lens'. Kaito was just looked to as the chairman's son; so chances were that if there was extra-funding needed, you'd go to him on your hands and knees. Yuuma was supposed to be Luki's ever diligent assistant, but the chances of the other pink-haired man _not _trying to roll the aluminum foil pieces into a source for blunt paper was 1/10. Really, the guy was just better left at home.

So what quirk did he find so appealing about the azure-haired photog?

Was it the constant rejection?

The obliviousness to his come-ons?

Or was it the way that those heavenly globes strained against the back of those leather pants whenever he bent over?

Probably the latter.

**-v-**

"Dude, just ask him out or something." Yuuma paused. "And quit being a fuckin' _prick _and let me in."

"Your smoke will make my hair smell terrible." Luki stated dismissively, eyeing the balcony door with distaste as he sorted his combs and brushes on his vanity table. An annoyed groan was his only response, as well as an emphasized rattle of the door handle.

"Your sister already reported you, by the time that you even fucking work up the balls to get your hands on the kid, you'll already be at a different company. Grow a pair, Megurine." The olive-colored eyed male started up again, inching away from the pigeon that outright looked to be in the business of taking his grass away from him.

"...Yeah?" He turned in his chair to look out the glass of the balcony door across the room. Vanity bulbs hit pink oculars and made him look slightly dangerous. "What would you put up for grabs?" Luki was instigating a gamble. A bet between the two was always precarious. Stakes were high at all times.

"Act on your creepy feelings, shithead." Yuuma was teetering on the edge of the cement ledge as the little, white bird from Hell hopped closer to him. Luki pursed his lips pointedly, raising a slender eyebrow.

"And what do I get?"

"A piece of ass from _Juliet..._and I'll stop smoking."

"But what would_ you_ be getting?" Luki clicked his tongue expectantly.

"A fucking key of my own."

The inner-mechanisms of the hair stylist's mind came to a mutual 'click' as a plan that Luki didn't even feel right taking credit for formulated on its own. "I'll take that bet.''

"...Shit, man. That bird owes me!" A hard kick resounded outside, and then if you listened closely, you'd hear a pained groan.

One ankle crossed over as he turned back to his combs. What a fatuous hobby his roommate indulged in; feeding hallucinogenics to small animals. He snorted, fuchsia-lacquered nails skimming over the kinks in his plot. More like added _more kinks, _but hey; he was only human. With a crush.

**-v-**

"I know." The tone had an air of disinterest to it, a slight undertone of curiosity could be picked up; albeit that required concentration, and Luki could only tilt his head at the response at that particular moment.

"...What now?" Tone alight with blithe, he folded his arms over his chest, the carmine glow from the red room's light bulb turning his eyes into twin magenta pools of bemusement as he stared down the back of his person of interest. Being thrown off didn't quite work on Megurine Luki. Especially when it came to something he wanted.

"You honestly felt the dire need to come into my department to confess things I already knew?"

_Nice try, Hatsune. _

"_Yeeep,_" The hair stylist drawled out, leaning against the door frame carefully. The urge to ravish the smaller male right then and there against the table arose, and he entertained the idea of pushing the negative slips onto the floor, slamming the teal-headed man down in their former place and splitting him wide _ope—_

"What do you plan to do about it?" Mikuo glanced over his shoulder, as if sensing his thoughts.

The question prodded at his pride and ego. Of all the lewd, possibly acrobatic things that he planned to do over the past year, he hadn't had the intention to actually voice them; now of all times. And he thought he came prepared for this.

"Dunno yet. I'm working that out." He'd make the boy feel as beautiful as the models he took pictures of every day. Luki wet his lips with the effort to stay calm. Bits of anxiety made his heart pick up and never go back down. The heat pooling in his chest grew rapidly as he watched Mikuo clip pieces of sleek paper onto the strings hanging from the ceiling. The silence made him wonder _exactly_ what was going through the other male's head.

"Are you now?"

With an easy quirk of his lips and confident spark, he replied with infinite sarcasm. "Anything for you, _babe_."

"Just put your money where your mouth is."

Luki would do anything right now to see the look marring Mikuo's delicate features. Was it anger brewing there? Irritation? Or plain urgency?

As if sensing his mystification, the rookie photographer reconfirmed himself. This time, his tone somewhat hesitant. "..You heard me." He pivoted slowly on his heel. The crimson tint to his face almost completely invisible in the red room's lighting. But the hairstylist knew a flush when he saw one.

"Yes." Luki's tongue darted out to wet his own lips.

"You want me." It was a rhetorical question, the pink-haired narcissist knew that. But the opportunity to admit it to the other male's face wasn't to be passed up.

"Yes." He breathed, repeating himself only for a lapse of judgement. Luki's eyes followed the rubber gloves as Mikuo pulled it from his fingers; one-by-one. The damp apron clung to the teal-haired photographer's form, and Mikuo's eyelashes fluttered against the apples of his cheeks as he closed aqua irides, his canine sinking into his bottom lip as he dropped his glove into the chemical tub that he had been handling minutes beforehand.

"You..You've been watching me for months, Megurine-San." Mikuo blatantly speculated. "Surely you've formulated a plan on how to get into my pants." He went on, free hand went palm-down on the metal counter as he offered himself leverage to hop up onto the flat surface. Luki noticed him take on a hesitant expression before leather-clad legs spread open a minuscule amount. "So fuck me," Eyelids snapped open and locked with an azure pair. They were _smoldering_. "And stop ogling me as I work, it's very distracting."

He didn't need to be told twice.

Within seconds, he had the small photographer up against his workspace, hands roughly gripping his forearms and knees forcing his legs open. For a fleeting nanosecond; it seemed that Mikuo was regretting his decision, and Luki felt a stake in his arousal. The little vixen wanted gentle? He could do gentle. ...Atleast he thought so. Slender finger's grip went almost completely slack, the crushing squeeze turning into a light stroke or two on the fresh bruises marking porcelain skin. A wet gasp of surprise slipped from Mikuo's mouth before he could stop it, and with a skeptical glance upwards, he canted upwards, touching their crotches together.

Luki was pleasantly surprised to learn that his co-worker was semi-hard already. He couldn't _stop _the grin from skating across his features. With a free hand, the pink-haired male tugged the ties on the apron loose, pulling it from between them and touching his person-of-interest's skin for the first time. The pads of his fingers skimmed Mikuo's collarbone, the tip of his nail scraping lightly against pale flesh and across a peach-colored nipple. The ministration had the young man eliciting moan after moan, his body merely held up by shakey hands, palm-down against the table. A lick to the jaw here and a nip there had Mikuo literally grinding for more. The boy looked like he'd cum in his jeans if Luki would let him.

"_Greedy_, little photog," Luki husked, smirk never leaving his face as he descended warm lips onto unsuspecting ones. Their tongued tangles together and worked to create something erotic and sultry, a dance that could go on for ages.

"Undress me." Mikuo mumbled the order as he pulled away, he looked expectant, and Luki thought that was simply adorable. He'd oblige the little vixen for abit before he got what he wanted. Slender fingers deftly grabbed the hem of the T-shirt and tugged it over the smaller male's head, catching sight of the teal-haired man eyes close as he raised his arms over his head; legs tightening around Luki's waist.

Mikuo had tousled hair when the task was completed, and the hairstylist in him wanted to muss it back to previous perfection. Turqoise oculars watched him carefully before clouding in confusion and irritation. "What are you staring at me like that for—" Luki cut him off with a hard kiss. The photographer made pretty sounds when caught off guard.

He took a moment to appreciate shirtless Mikuo, but only a moment due to the fact that once he pulled away; said male was on him again in no time. "You want it?" Luki husked, corners of his lips hitching upwards.

"Take it." The subdued male snapped, beautiful mewls slipping from between his lips like sounds from a harp.

Oh, but he wasn't_ done _yet.

With a flick of his wrist, he had Mikuo's pants unbuttoned, he thumbed the tag on the zipper before sliding it open, the sound of it being the only sound in the room besides both of their heavy breathing. Mikuo supported himself with only one arm, his free hand slipping into his boxers and hurriedly pulling his cock out. '_Such a crude display.._' But Luki appreciated the front row seat to it nonetheless. Shooing the teal-haired man's hands from his member, he exerted the small effort to wrap his hand around it himself, forcing Mikuo to let out a choked moan; startling the elder co-worker.

Luki proceeded, carefully watching Mikuo bite his own hand to keep from moaning as he slowly began to stroke the stiff appendage; meanwhile, manicured nails were cautious not to graze the tender skin. "You want it in my mouth?" His voice was low and husky, head tilting to the side as he watched another flush mare porcelain facial features.

"L-Luki..." Mikuo breathed, exhaling breathlessly as he succumbed even faster to the advances administered.

"Or do you want me inside you?" He went on, magenta-colored tresses being tucked behind a pierced ear as Luki leaned down, his torso against Mikuo's. He could feel the smaller male's heart beating and he only wanted to accelerate it. Experimentally, he swiped his tongue across the photographer's bottom lip, having him elicit a gasp against his better judgement; because the second that mouth was open, it belonged to the voracious, leather-wearing co-worker. He used his hand to knead Mikuo's member into an erect state.

A minuscule amount of saliva leaked out of the side of Mikuo's mouth and he raised his hips almost shyly to grind against Luki. Averting his gaze quickly as soon as an amused hair stylist narrowed his eyes to look at him.

"You heard what I said before.." Mikuo moaned as the other male went down to his neck, nipping roughly. A hum of confirmation traveled from the fuchsia-haired man's throat to his own, and he merely reiterated what he said earlier. "Fuck me, Luki—" He gasped when Luki bit down on him. "—Do it, please. _Now_."

Skilled fingers ravished Mikuo's torso, and he observed the photographer tilt his head back and sigh in muted interest. "You're really beautiful, Hatsune." Luki breathed out, azure oculars voraciously drinking in the sight of the other male as he was splayed out all pretty against his own workspace, shirt missing, and pants open and about to be on the floor. Luki's hand disappeared between milky thighs, the pad of his finger tracing the smooth outline of Mikuo's sack, perineum, and then the twitching rim of the most appetizing looking asshole he had ever seen. _Damn_. He quickly brought his finger to his mouth and broke off the nail with his canine. He spit it out onto the floor before turning back to the task at hand. That pink hole looked so inviting. Inviting enough for Luki to slowly dip his finger inside that furnace-like space.

And so he did.

Mikuo arched helplessly, a cut cry escaping past his lips before he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. Eyes were watering and he openly stared at the other male before squeezing his eyes shut. Luki paused for a moment before continuing his ministrations, his knuckle working past the ring of muscles with ease. Dexterous fingers fucked the younger male and the little vixen seemed that he was already dizzy from the sensation of it, he opened his legs more, hands wrapping around the base of his own cock, he was officially unable to control himself.

"You're so tight.." He complimented the photog. Mikuo moaned wantonly in response, trembling slightly from the pleasure. "..Lube?" Luki questioned, his own pants around his thighs as he began to open the younger's ass up enough for him with three new fingers. Mikuo was almost unable to respond to the stimulation, yet he seemed to mumble out _'Vaseline on table_' before slamming his hips up against the appendages violating him.

A quick scan of the workspace and Luki reached over to retrieve the item in question, reluctantly pulling his fingers away with a sloppy '_pop!'_. Mikuo let out a husky whimper in return. Luki rubbed the liquid onto the palm of his hand, covering his fingers in it as well before he stroked himself, the jelly-like liquid adhered compliantly, already helping be slippery as Luki positioned himself at the entrance of Mikuo's ass.

Mikuo canted upwards, moaning loadly with each tiny bit of hot cock that he was able to take in. His own dick leaked pre-cum, and he spread his legs much wider to accommodate Luki's body to get closer. Much closer. Silky walls contracted lazily, and Luki was already on Cloud 9.

A minute or two had passed, and both had caught their breath; some abit more diligently than others. "Move." Mikuo ordered, face as red as red could possibly get, contrasting interestingly with his eyes.

Luki complied eagerly, fucking into that tight space with quick vigor. The table creaked as the owner of it got continuously pounded against the sturdy metal. Luki's hands left bruises on fragile hipbones and Mikuo moaned in pleasure from the mix of the rough manhandling and the delicious prodding at his prostate. Luki moved his hands down to massage the beautiful swell of his co-worker's ass as he thrusted into it. The object of his obsession in his grasp and with his legs wide for him. Mikuo's throat felt raw and dry, yet his mouth continued to water whenever he imagined actually opening his eyes and watching himself get impaled with the other male's dick.

He thought that he had been turned on from being watched from long distances by an attractive co-worker? Not anymore. Being split open in ecstasy was much more arousing now. Mikuo tilted his head back; moaning in amazement when he received a long lick to the collarbone.

Neither of them anticipated coming so soon. Before Luki knew it, he was coating Mikuo's insides in a white, creamy substance, and Mikuo had given himself a pearl necklace. A beat skipped.

With flashing canines, Luki grinned at the slowly blinking Mikuo in bemusement. "Still fucking beautiful." He commented, fingers leaving defined; bruised hipbones in order to swipe up abit of cum from sliding down the photographer's chest. Luki promptly stuck them into his mouth, sucking the appendages clean as the teal-haired man scowled darkly.

"..Shut. up." Mikuo enunciated at him in reply, eyes opening to glare hotly, but his face red in embarrassment. The hair stylist gave an even bigger quirky smirk in return.

_End._


End file.
